Stem The Flow
by Silverspoon
Summary: Rewrite of 6:21/22. "When I do picture myself happy, it's with you." Crowley's plan of distraction comes in the form of a lost love. Dean risks his life to save those close to him and unexpectedly finds the one who truly owned his heart. AU Collab.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors' Note – We own nothing but at least ten plausible ways to #Bring Back Jo. (Sign the Twittition now)!**_

_**Another collab between Silverspoon and WelshWitch1011. When you get sick of us, just say. We can't promise that will make us go away though.**_

_**WARNING – Contains spoilers and dialogue from episodes 6:21 and 6:22, 'Let It Bleed' and 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'.**_

'_**Stem The Flow'**_

_**Part One**_

**x-x-x**

Fear was palpable, smothering even. Lisa sat back to back with her son Ben, their hands bound together against a post, and their hearts racing in unison. There was little Lisa could do now to comfort her son, nothing suitable that she could say to soothe away the fear and the hurt that bringing Dean into their lives had caused them. And so, Lisa simply sat in silence, hoping that her mere presence was enough to calm Ben as it once had been when he was child.

In many ways Ben was still a child, and yet in many others he teetered on the uneasy precipice of manhood. Tonight, however, he seemed every inch the lost little boy, and Lisa felt almost guilty at the realisation that she was glad. Lisa needed to be needed, and that was something she had never had with Dean- no matter how much she had liked to pretend.

Dean would come for them. Of that, Lisa was as certain as she was that the grass was green or the rain was wet. As a hunter and a hero, Dean was dependable; as a steady partner and a father figure, however, he was shaky at best. Lisa had spent many an hour since his departure tormenting herself for ever having fallen for Dean and his charms.

From the moment that Lisa Braeden had laid eyes upon nineteen year Dean Winchester, she had realised that before her was a man she could truly fall in love with; hard and fast, the way the movies always made seem so appealing.

Of course, Lisa had known little about his family and 'vocation' back then, but she was certain that had she been privy to the life Dean had been born into, her gaze and his advances would have been swiftly redirected. Lisa craved a normal, even mundane existence, and she still berated herself for ever having allowed Dean with his many demons to taint her life. However, even knowing all that she did about him, Lisa could not shake the image of Dean as her ideal man; the only man that she had ever truly loved with the kind of passion she had dreamed of as a little girl. Try as she may, Lisa could never bring herself to regret that.

"It's okay Ben, it's gonna be okay," she glanced down at her son and smiled faintly, hoping that if she spoke the words aloud, they would provide her too with some comfort.

The sound of measured footfalls caught her attention and Lisa stared up wide-eyed at the man who was pacing before them.

The creature she had now come to know as 'Crowley' paused momentarily before directing a smug grin at his captives.  
>"Don't worry, I won't be needing you for very much longer," Crowley promised, his eyes widening and a chuckle reverberating from his chest. From behind the doorway above the stairwell, a cacophony of bangs and crashes filled the air. The sound of bodies falling coupled with heavy, urgent footfalls now captured their collective attentions.<p>

The door to the basement room was swiftly and efficiently blown from its hinges, as the body of a demon connected with the wood that splintered upon impact. The demon's body flew through the upper banister of the staircase and crashed to the ground below, a puddle of crimson beginning to pool beneath his head.

A figure wielding a gleaming blade rushed through the threshold of the doorway, pausing only to bury his knife in a second attacking lackey. The demon stumbled to one side, his true countenance flashing across the otherwise human visage several times, before he slumped over. A booted foot in the base of his spine sent him tumbling down the stairs, taking the rest of the ruined guard rail with him.

With eyes wide and breathing laboured, Dean stepped through the remnants of the doorway and surveyed the scene before him.

Crowley clapped his hands together and nodded in approval, "Can we get a fan-girl swoon for that palpable, testosterone fuelled display?" The smile faded rapidly from his lips, and Crowley regarded the new arrival closely, "Dean, how nice of you to join us."

"Crowley," Dean growled, and the hatred in his voice caused Lisa to flinch. His tone was far from the gentle purr that she recalled, and something about it was altogether dangerous and alarming. Anger flashed behind Dean's eyes and, despite her previous concerns, Lisa dared to hope that the spark may have been ignited by the very thought that she and Ben were in danger. Perhaps Dean did still care after all, and perhaps it meant little that her calls to him over the last seven months had all been directed to a voicemail service that never appeared to be answered. Perhaps the hope that was alive in her belly was not as futile as she had first believed.

"Well now," Crowley began, clapping his hands together and taking a few steps towards the stairwell, "since the pleasantries are out of the way, shall we get right down to business?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," snapped Dean, a sinister smile present on his face. Lisa shuddered as Dean's gaze swept both she and Ben, clearly checking on their wellbeing. Satisfied that both were for the moment safe, Dean returned his heavy gaze to Crowley, who beckoned the hunter with the slight curl of his index finger.

"I have something of yours," Crowley crowed, eyes dancing as he rocked back and forth on his heels in a demonstration of his excitement. "Or should I say, someone of yours."

An expression of blatant confusion flashed across Dean's face and he glanced from Lisa and Ben to the demon before him.  
>Crowley chuckled and shook his head, "Ah, ah, ah... cold... very, very cold."<p>

"What are you talking about?" Dean's eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. He was tired of the childish games and misdirection that had been hurled at them over the past few weeks, and months.  
>Crowley folded his arms across his chest and stared up in mock contemplation at the ceiling, "I thought using your unfortunate ex and her illegitimate offspring would be the most pertinent way of grabbing your attention, and keeping your meddling little paws out of my business." Crowley smiled in obvious delight as he added, "But then I had a nice long chat with Lisa here and, I suddenly realised I wasn't thinking big enough. I wasn't... considering all my options."<p>

A further sense of dread began to settle over Dean and he briefly wondered just how the situation could possibly get any worse. Judging from the broad smile on the demon's face, things were definitely on a decline.  
>"See, when you went to Lisa after Sam decided on his little vacation, you really were out of options. And that got me to thinking; where would Dean Winchester have run to if Lisa Braeden hadn't been the only one left?"<p>

Crowley watched as Dean flinched and he widened his eyes as if talking to a child, "Can you guess... _Dean-o_?"  
>A flash of acknowledgement passed across the hunter's face and Dean felt all eyes in the room focus in upon him.<br>"What have you done, Crowley?" he yelled, trying to ignore the rampant pounding of his heart as it echoed in his eardrums.

The demon buried one hand deep into the pocket of his trousers and rubbed at the darkening line of stubble on his jaw with the other.

"Dean..." Lisa hissed, her entire body trembling and causing her voice to do likewise, "what's he talking about?"

Dean shot a glance at Lisa, but she could tell even from the distance between them that his full attention was not with her. Dean's mind was elsewhere; a fact that was communicated by the haunted and frantic look adopted within his eyes.

"Oh, don't worry my dear," Crowley crooned, striding towards Lisa and placing one hand upon her head. He ruffled her mane of dark hair and winked down at his hostage, "This part has absolutely nothing to do with you."

Lisa turned a questioning glance upon Dean who immediately averted his eyes to the floor as though he had not registered Lisa's presence at all. Guilt flickered across his features but Lisa sensed that the emotion had little to do with her or even her son; whatever Dean was going through, Lisa was oblivious to. In that one moment, the painful realisation struck Lisa that she had never truly been allowed to see inside the soul of the man who she had welcomed into her home, her bed, and her heart. Dean swallowed hard.

"What does he mean?" Lisa repeated, far from assuaged by the demon's words that either she or Ben would escape from the situation unscathed. Lisa had assumed that Dean's arrival would spell imminent rescue, but as he stood facing down the demon, that prospect seemed to be dwindling with every passing moment.

When Dean refused to answer, his mouth pressed into a tight line that he dared not break, Crowley instead rested a hand on Lisa's shoulder. The woman shivered at the cold touch, but peered up at the demon nonetheless. She would take her answers from whichever avenue they were offered.

"You see Lisa, despite what Dean may have told you, you and the brat were in fact never first choice," Crowley stated, chuckling with delight as Lisa recoiled a little from the barb. Ben remained deathly silent, shock and fear rendering him mute.

"I don't believe you," Lisa hissed, surprised by the venom dripping from her voice and her own bravado, "we had something special. We loved each other."

"Dean?" Lisa pressed, her eyes widening as she implored him to answer.

Dean shook his head, lifting his eyes almost pleadingly to Crowley, "Just let them go."

"The lady deserves to know the truth, Dean," Crowley replied, not missing a beat as he added slyly, "why don't you tell her about... Carthage?"

He pounced on the word with delight and grinned as it provoked the desired response.  
>Dean closed his eyes and turned his head from view, but Lisa saw him blink rapidly and visibly hold his breath. The fear that had previously been so all consuming now ebbed away as her curiosity got the better of her, and she found it impossible to tear her gaze away from his face. Only when talking about Sam's death had she ever seen Dean so clouded with grief, and Lisa wondered who or what had evoked such an emotive response.<p>

"What's the matter, Dean?" Crowley shrugged "hell hound got your tongue?"

Dean's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he hollered, "Shut your mouth, or so help me God, I'll..."

"Oh," Crowley waved his hand dismissively in the air, oddly jovial for a demon on the wrong side of a hunter, "God won't help you now, Dean. He never has before."

"Now, my surprise..." Crowley continued, rubbing his hands together as he glanced over toward a minion who had been lurking in the corner, "I'm not usually one for sappy reunions, but... I think you're going to like this."

Dean, Lisa and Ben all stared in trepidation toward a darkened corner of the room, as the demon marched from the shadows, all but dragging a woman along beside him.  
>Lisa remained none the wiser, simply furrowing her brow as she failed to recognise the petite blonde who was being hauled toward the group, her feet barely touching the floor.<p>

Dean, however, looked as though the breath had been stolen from his body, and his eyes widened as he stared. Elation, confusion and despair all flickered in rapid succession across his features.

"Jo..." Dean breathed the name as though it physically pained him, and Lisa's eyes ticked to his face. The passion etched into his expression was surprising and unequal to anything Lisa had ever witnessed from Dean Winchester before.

The woman stood trembling from head to toe, slightly hunched over as her own arms encircled her middle, and Lisa found herself feeling almost sorry for the pathetic figure she cut. Honey blonde curls spilled almost to her elbows, and formed a curtain in front of her face that partially obscured her features. However, despite the poor light in the warehouse, Lisa could see that the woman was both young and beautiful. She wore tattered blue jeans and a men's shirt that almost reached her knees. Her appearance gave the impression that clothing had been thrust upon her, rather than actually owned.

Dean took a step forwards, and instantly the demon with his hand on the woman's arm yanked her away. She let out a whimper that was barely audible but the sound of it seemed to lacerate Dean's heart where he stood. Crowley looked on, gloating and squeezing his hands together at his chest.

"Please forgive young Jo, she's been through quite a lot," Crowley said, savouring every wince that his words extracted from Dean, "I'm sure that Lisa and Ben here are quite intrigued though."

Lisa's gaze flicked between Dean and the woman, and she found herself hesitantly voicing her question, "Who is she, Dean?"

Dean stood in silence, his chest visibly rising and falling with every breath. He ran his hand over his face and shook his head, beginning to mutter repeatedly to himself to prevent any sense of hope from building. "_She's not real... she's not real_."

Crowley cleared his throat, interrupting Dean's quiet murmurings. "Oh, I assure you she is," he promised, nodding at the demon that held Jo against his chest. Crowley smiled merrily as the guard produced a silver knife and ran the blade against the young woman's palm.

Dean rushed forward as a startled yelp escaped her, making his stomach churn as he allowed himself to consider the impossible reality. Crowley nodded once more at the demon and he shoved Jo toward the centre of the room. She staggered on unsteady legs and Dean found himself automatically reaching out to catch her.  
>"Jo?" he whispered softly, the disbelief evident in his tone as he brushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes opened slowly and Dean could do nothing but stare.<p>

"Dean..." she murmured, her bottom lip quivering. Tears began to spill from the corners of her muddy brown eyes as she whispered, "Where am I?"

Without uttering a word, Dean moved forward and wrapped his arms around the woman, drawing her into his body in an embrace so tight that she could not have escaped it even if she had wished to. Lisa watched quietly, fascinated by this new glimpse of a side of Dean that she had never seemed able to coax out of him.

Dean kissed the crown of Jo's head repeatedly and Lisa could have sworn that she saw a few renegade tears splash onto the collar of his shirt. The fabric was dark however and so even in good light she would be unable to tell. Lisa's question remained unanswered and so as the reunion continued in the middle of the floor, she wracked her brain for any mention of a woman named Jo. Recalling none, Lisa let out an irritated sigh and began to struggle against her wrist bonds were the rope had started to dig into her skin.

"What a beautiful scene," Crowley cooed, throwing his arms wide as though inviting an embrace as he strode towards Dean and Jo. Crowley slammed his balled fist against his own chest as he added, "Just gets you right here."

Jo clung to Dean, her mind a blur as she struggled to recall where she was and exactly how she had come to be there. She drew back slightly from Dean's embrace, staring around the room in confusion.  
>"I'm not supposed to be here," she whispered, frowning as she returned her gaze to his face, "I... I died."<p>

Her eyes widened expressively and Dean caught a tear that tripped her cheek with the pad of his thumb. He remained silent and simply nodded, not caring for the hows and whys of her being his arms; she was somehow alive, and that was all that mattered. Dean reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, feeling a sense of awe wash over him at the warmth of her skin. The last time he had touched her, she had been cold and clammy, minutes away from a cruel death.

Although afraid and confused as to her surroundings, Jo looked as vibrant and alive as Dean had often imagined her in his dreams. His eyes roved her body and he steadied himself before his gaze reached her side. Jo watched as his hand fluttered to her waist and he appeared relieved to find no sign of the injury that had taken her life. With a shudder, Jo recalled the claws that had torn through her flesh as easily as if they were slicing butter.

"How am I here, Dean?" asked Jo fearfully, surprise colouring her expression as Dean blinked back tears and shook his head.  
>"I don't know," he replied, searching her face one more time before he pulled her back into his arms. One hand grippedthe back of her head as he glared across the room at Crowley, his eyes blazing.<p>

"You freakin' son of a bitch," Dean snarled, looking as though he wanted to say more. He refrained however, simply remaining locked in an embrace with this new mystery woman.

Crowley grimaced in disapproval, before laying one splayed palm against his heart, "How your words wound me, Dean. Is that really any way to talk to the bearer of such a magnificent gift?"

"Magnificent?" Dean spat through gritted teeth, unconsciously holding Jo closer, "you ripped her straight out of heaven, you bastard."

Lisa released a gasp that she seemed helpless to prevent, beginning to piece fragments of the story together for herself now. Crowley chuckled and shot Lisa an uninterested glance before returning his attention to Dean.

"Who says I found her in heaven?" countered Crowley, cocksure grin still in place, rendering the truth behind his claim unreadable.

Dean took a moment to process the demon's words, unwilling to believe that Jo Harvelle's soul had belonged anywhere but heaven. Yet Crowley's words struck home as he remembered Ash informing them that nobody had seen either Jo or Ellen in the afterlife. It was a thought he had pondered often but refused to acknowledge the implications behind.

"No, no way." Dean spat, his expression darkening as he remembered that fateful day in Carthage and the sacrifice both women had made. The guilt over Jo's death would haunt him until the very end and, no matter how Sam or Bobby had tried to comfort him, he knew within his heart that she had died because of him. The idea that Jo had given her life for his and then been subjected to the horrors of hell or purgatory made his blood run cold.

"Bored now!" Crowley stated, miming a yawn as he watched Lisa and Dean exchange significantly awkward glances, "and I have a ritual to attend, so if you don't mind..."

Pausing to bend down and address Lisa, Crowley whispered something inaudible in her ear and then rose to his feet, his ever present smirk set in place.  
>"Well, I'm sure you three will have lots to talk about," he chuckled, waving at Jo as she stared back at him from the relative safety of Dean's embrace. "Let's see if this doesn't keep you busy for a while. Ciao!"<p>

The demon strode toward the centre of the room and almost immediately vanished from sight, leaving Dean in a state of shock as he looked first to Lisa and Ben, and then to the woman in his arms.

"Dean, cut us free," Lisa instructed, imploring Dean with her eyes, "before more demons come."

Dean stood frozen for several more seconds, unable to wrench his eyes away from Jo's face. He could not begin to fathom why Crowley had resurrected her and to what purpose she would now serve. It seemed odd that the demon would go to such lengths and then simply disappear in a figurative cloud of smoke, seemingly having taken nothing from Dean.

"Dean!" Lisa called out, her tone desperate as she struggled against the ropes that bound her and Ben. Dean suddenly leapt into action, removing the knife from his belt once more and using it to slice through their bonds. Both Lisa and Ben jumped to their feet, the latter massaging his wrists were welts had formed.

"Let's get out of here," Dean said, taking Jo's arm as she blinked up at him in confusion, and beginning to start towards the stairs.

"The brat's not going anywhere," Lisa hissed, a strange grin twisting her lips as she glared at the hunter. Dean's jaw dropped as an onyx shadow inked across Lisa's eyes, and she reached out a hand to pull Ben towards her by the throat, "And neither am I."

If being brought back to life and finding herself in the midst of an apparently apocalyptic demonic scheme had not been enough of a jolt for Jo, Crowley's parting surprise left her reeling.

Dean advanced toward Lisa, his heart breaking for Ben as the young boy stared back at him from behind terrified eyes.  
>"Just a little insurance, can't go losing our leverage now, can we?" Lisa explained. "Ah, ah, ah," she chided, "one more step, kid gets a free appendectomy."<p>

Jo remained at Dean's side, desperately trying to piece together events in order to ascertain just who this woman was and what she meant to Dean.

"You know, she's awake in here, your Mom. I can hear her thinking," the demon purred, smiling gleefully as Ben trembled within her grasp and stared up at the thing that bore his mother's face.

Dean edged forward slowly, ushering Jo behind him. "Don't listen Ben, that's not your mom... it's not your mom," he said emphatically, drawing the child's gaze in his direction.

The demon chuckled and cocked her head to the side, "Why, I was just gonna tell him you're his real Daddy."  
>A shadow of doubt crossed briefly behind Dean's eyes and hurriedly he shook off the uncertainty her words provoked. Jo's head whipped around in his direction and Dean saw her in his peripheral vision; her gaze flickering repeatedly between Dean and Ben.<p>

The demon noted Dean's expression with obvious delight and she gave a flippant shrug, "Just kidding. Who knows who your real Dad is, kid. Your mother's a slut."

"Shut your mouth," Dean growled, reaching into his jacket pocket cautiously without the demon noticing, "let the kid go."

"You think you're her white knight, Dean?" Lisa challenged, her blackened eyes blazing as she shook her head, "she wishes she'd never met you. You're the worst mistake she ever made... well, second worst, after keeping you." Her arm tightened around Ben's throat as she arched a pointed eyebrow in the boy's direction.

"Ben, she's lying..." Dean called out, shaking his head. Despite what Lisa's feelings may now be about him and their ill-fated relationship, he knew she loved her son beyond reason.

"Says the C minus lay with ten miles of daddy-issues," Lisa growled, hoisting the knife up against Ben's throat as Dean made as though to advance, "back off, cowboy."

She lowered her lips to Ben's ear, her features contorted by the demon within, "You know, she's begging me to kill you. She says you hold her back. Never had a lick of fun since you were born."

"Ben look at me," Dean stated calmly, drawing Ben's eyes to his own face, "you're gonna be just fine." In one hand Dean grasped a vile of holy water, which he flung at the demon with a growl.

Lisa reeled back, releasing a blood curdling scream as smoke poured from her skin. She released Ben from her grip as the knife dropped from her hands and clattered to the floor. Kicking the blade away from the demon's reach, Dean watched as she fell back against the ground after smashing through a wooden work bench behind her.

"Jo, take Ben. Sam's outside... just get out of here," he instructed, handing Jo his shotgun as she nodded in understanding and drew the weapon tight to her chest. Dean watched her turn away from him and he reached out on impulsive to tug on her arm, propelling her back towards him to press a brief yet urgent kiss against her lips.

The last few moments they had spent together in Carthage were fresh in both their minds, and the intimacy they had finally shared left no room for any further misunderstandings about the nature of their feelings.  
>"Just... be careful," he implored, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Jo brought her trembling hand to rest over his and attempted a smile.<p>

"You too," she said in earnest, holding Dean's gaze for a split second before she took Ben's arm and began to lead him toward the stairs in the presumed direction of the exit.

Dean fell backwards as the now recovered demon landed a blow to the side of his head that sent him sprawling across the surface of a desk. Pushing himself back from the workbench, Dean affixed a cold glare upon Lisa, beginning to recite a Latin exorcism with practiced ease. The words flowed freely from his tongue and the demon in Lisa's body twitched as it felt itself beginning to be ousted from it's host.

In a split second, Lisa flung herself across the room and gripped Dean about the throat, holding him up off the floor with one hand.

"Stop it," she demanded in a throaty growl, her eyes wide and teeth bared in a snarl. "I'm warning you."

Clawing at the fingers that dug painfully into his throat, Dean narrowed his eyes at Lisa, uttering his curse with conviction, "You can go to hell, you black eyed bitch."

Throwing his head back, Dean rammed his forehead into Lisa's face, sending her staggering backwards and releasing him from her hold. Dean picked up the incantation once more, feinting to the left as Lisa swung a punch at him. Every syllable he uttered seemed to enrage the demon more and more, but Dean continued with determination.

Jo and Ben ran towards the stairs, arm in arm, and pounded up the steps two at a time. As they approached the doorway, several demons loomed through the gap, and Ben let out a startled cry that drew Dean's gaze for a moment. Lisa seized the opportunity and clocked Dean in the jaw, a resounding crack echoing through the abandoned factory. Dean grunted in pain, tasting blood in his mouth, but continued to chant regardless.

Jo flung one arm out behind her body, pushing Ben back down the stairs towards the easier fighting forum of the warehouse floor. Ben jumped backwards obligingly as with accuracy Jo deflected the blows that the first demon rained down upon her.

The sound of their altercation quickly caught Dean's attention and he watched helplessly as the three demon guards rounded on Jo. The sound of gunfire rang out across the basement and he sighed in relief as one of Crowley's minions was hit square in the stomach by a round. His lifeless body tumbled from the staircase and landed with a thud below.

Dean focused upon Lisa once again; she prowled around him, one hand on her hip as she followed the path of Dean's gaze to the blonde hunter.  
>The demon stared at him thoughtfully, suddenly laughing through a thoroughly menacing sneer, "Ah Jo... poor, innocent, love struck Jo."<p>

"Leave her out of this," Dean snapped, watching his step as they walked in counter circles, each trying to anticipate the other's next move.

"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" Lisa mocked, watching Dean cast a fleeting look toward Jo as another deafening gunshot resounded.

"You can't save her Dean, just like you couldn't last time," Lisa stated, her matter of fact tone sending shivers down his spine, "she'll die saving your sorry ass... just like Carthage. You ever wonder what was running through her pretty little head in those last few moments?"

Dean tried to block out the taunts and took a step forward. He resumed the incantation, struggling to hold Lisa at bay without causing her injury as she lunged for his throat, throwing him up against the wall whilst snarling in his face.  
>"She hated you, Dean. Just like poor Lisa does now. She imagined all the things she'd never have... a home... love... children. She gave up everything because of you."<p>

"You don't know anything about her," Dean winced, trying to wrench her fingers from his throat.

"I know enough," Lisa countered with a chuckle as she slapped Dean across the face. Dean grunted and kicked out at the demon, succeeding in breaking her grip as he swept her legs from under her. She hit the ground hard and immediately rolled to one side before jumping to her feet once again. She raised her hands in a defensive poise and Dean mirrored the pose.

"I even know why Crowley brought her back," the demon hissed, watching stoically as Dean's determination wavered.

"Demons lie," he answered, his tone cold and un-conceding, "you're poison. Why should I believe a word you say?"

Lisa shrugged, but something in her expression made Dean pause at least for the moment. However, as another gunshot echoed, Dean was hauled from his trance and he dove for the demon with both arms outstretched to trap her.

Holding her fast against the wall, his arm pressing against her throat, he began the final part of the exorcism, trying to finish the incantation to help Jo, who had managed to fend off the guards and was now headed for the stairs once more with Ben beside her.

"You want to know, I can see it in your eyes. You want to know why she's here, why we gave her back to you," she gasped, her eyes flickering and body convulsing as the demon inside began to fight to remain within it's vessel.  
>"I know Dean," she said, "I know where that tortured, noble, pathetically loyal heart of yours truly lies..."<p>

She gasped as the demon fought to regain control, "With her. That's why she's back Dean... so you can say goodbye to her all over again."

"Go to Hell," Dean growled, stepping back as the final words of the exorcism burst from his lips and Lisa gasped frantically for air. Throwing her head back and mouth wide open, a stream of black smoke poured from Lisa's body and she collapsed sideways onto the floor, almost fainting as a consequence of the ordeal.

Dean rushed to Lisa's side and extended a hand to her, which she accepted with a wary glance up at Dean. He pulled Lisa to her feet and withdrew his handgun from the holster he wore at his hip, checking to ensure that the safety catch was flicked off.

"Are you okay?" he checked, relieved to see Lisa nodding. "Let's get out of here then."

Dean and Lisa ran towards the staircase just as the second onslaught of demons arrived. This time there were six, and they wasted little time in engaging the hunters in combat. Jo landed a few good, hard punches to the nose of her attacker, whilst Dean slammed his elbow repeatedly into the face of a demon wearing the body of a teenage boy. Although somewhat remorseful at the action, Dean knew that any hesitation could cost them all their lives, and so he ploughed forwards with the resolve to simply do whatever needed to be done.

Lisa screamed as a demon barreled into her, sending her sprawling across the ground, and in the next moment Ben had rushed to his mother's aid, breaking away from the safety of Jo's side. Jo's head whipped around in order to follow the boy's path as she kneed her current combatant in the groin.

"Mom!" Ben shrieked, his voice breaking with concern for his mother. Knowing that Lisa could do little to defend herself, Dean strode across the room with his handgun raised, and fired off several rounds into the demon's cranium. The demon rolled away from Lisa before jumping to his feet, a trail of blood beginning to course down his cheek from the two holes that now marred it's skull.

Lisa remained on the floor, trembling, and Ben moved to his mother's side. That was when a raven haired woman, moving with the fluidity and viciousness of one possessed, struck out at Ben with the machete she clutched in one hand.

Dean could do little more but watch in horror as Jo slammed the handle of the shotgun against the demon's skull, causing the woman to redirect her attentions.  
>"Jo!" Dean called out frantically, dispatching another demon with his knife as he raced to Jo's side.<p>

The female demon stumbled backwards as the shotgun hilt connected with her abdomen, but with a sudden surge of renewed vigour she redoubled her efforts and lunged at Jo with clear intent.

The blade of the knife glimmered menacingly as the demon's hand propelled the weapon forward and, mere seconds later, Jo tumbled to the ground. Dean was at the grinning demon's side in an instant and, when he slid Ruby's old knife into her chest, he did so with fury darkening his features. Blue light flashed over the demon's body and both she and her innocent host fell to the floor.

With the final demon dispatched, Dean dropped down at Jo's side, and peeled her cupped hands away from her stomach. She hissed through her teeth but Dean ignored her obvious pain, stealing himself for the sight that would greet him. The wound was deep and blood immediately spurted from it, beginning to seep out onto the dirt floor.

Black and white images, all too sharp in focus for comfort, flashed immediately through Dean's brain and suddenly he was in a hardware store in Missouri, cursed to bear witness to the death of the woman who had always meant more to him than he dared admit.

"No, no," Dean growled, shaking his head in his refusal to believe that it had come to this once more; Jo's life leaking away from her on the floor of some forgotten hole as a consequence of her own bravery. Ben watched from behind Lisa, his eyes wide and his mouth open in an 'o' of fear. Guilt settled heavily upon the boy's chest as he realised that he had been the cause of the scene before him, and that the life of Dean's friend was now hanging in the balance as a consequence of his mistake.

Jo whimpered and Dean pressed her own hand back against the knife wound, uttering soothing sounds as she grimaced in pain.

"I know honey," he murmured, touching the back of one hand to her forehead briefly, his heart almost shuddering to a halt as he watched her eyes begin to roll back in her head. "We need to keep pressure on this."

Ben wandered from Lisa's side and she watched mutely, half with a sense of pride, as her son stumbled to the aid of the hunters.

"Let me help," Ben begged, touching Dean's arm and forcing the man to look at him.

Ben faltered as he looked up at Dean's face, shocked to see tears welling in Dean's eyes as he nodded at Ben's request.  
>"Keep pressure on this, just... just press down real hard," Dean instructed, his eyes never leaving Jo's for a second.<p>

Tears streamed down her face, yet she forced a weak smile for his benefit, reaching out a shaking hand as she pressed her palm to his cheek.  
>"Wrong place, wrong time?" she whispered, echoing words from a place and time that now seemed so very long ago.<p>

Dean's breath caught in his chest and he shook his head resolutely as he placed his hand over hers, "No, you listen to me Jo, you're gonna be fine... I'm gonna get you out of here and..."

"Dean, it's okay," she soothed, her eyelids fluttering with evident pain.

"No. No, it's not," Dean choked out, brushing a kiss against Jo's palm before resting her hand across her chest.

He stood up and scanned the floor for his shotgun, which he ran to with increased urgency. Shooting Ben a reassuring smile, he tossed the weapon to the boy and bent to scoop Jo up in his arms, whispering to her calmly as the jarring motion caused her further pain.

"Wait, you're giving my son a gun?" Lisa demanded incredulously, watching as Jo gritted her teeth and her hand gripped tightly at the fabric of Dean's shirt.

"You know how to fire one of those things?" Dean replied evenly, waiting for Lisa to shake her head before he gestured to Ben, "well, he does. And he's gonna help me get us out of here, right Ben?"

"Yeah," Ben nodded, moving to stand beside Dean as his eyes settled fearfully on Jo's face.

"Hold on sweetheart, I'm gonna get you to a hospital," Dean vowed, beginning to climb the staircase out of the basement to where he hoped Sam would be waiting. Dean glanced over his shoulder at Ben, calling in warning as the next demon ran at them headlong, "Watch out for the kick."

Ben acknowledged Dean's cry with a nod, and within a second had blasted the demon aside with an impressively accurate shot. Lisa clapped her hands over her ears, her eyes widening as she stared at Ben, who seemed to be handling the weapon in a practiced manner.

"Good job Ben," Dean breathed, ducking his head in order to pass underneath a low hanging beam in the corridor. Ben followed in his wake at a mild jog, whilst Lisa brought up the rear of the party, wringing her hands nervously as she picked her way down the corridor. She let out a squeal as two more shots rang out. Lisa realised that Ben had both spotted and dispatched two more demons within seconds, and tears began to descend her cheeks at the awful situation both she and her son seemed to be in the thick of.

"Lisa, you okay?" Dean called back, noting her dangerously slow pace. She nodded and stepped over the debris that littered her path, relieved beyond measure to see the exit only steps away.

Dean stepped through the doorway, the cold chill of the night air greeting him, and was somewhat relieved to feel Jo's arm tense around his neck as he gazed furtively for any sign of his brother.

"In there," Dean directed, hearing furious banging emanating from behind the steel door of the bunker beside them. Ben scrambled to the door then wasted no time in pulling the lock back, freeing the younger Winchester from his prison.

Dean nodded in thanks at the child, although his gaze settled on his sibling's face, which had rapidly descended into shock at the sight of Jo Harvelle.  
>"Sammy, we need a ride to the hospital," Dean barked, indicating that now was not the time for an explanation.<br>"Uh, yeah," Sam shook himself out of his reverie and ran off toward the car, speeding to their side in the white four by four less than a minute later.

Lisa ushered Ben into the front seat alongside Sam, momentarily setting aside her hatred of Dean's brother in favour of her son not having to watch someone bleed to death in the backseat. She jumped into the back of the car and wordlessly reached out in order to help Dean settle the blonde hunter comfortably across the seat. To Lisa's surprise, Dean pulled Jo into his lap, cradling her there as though afraid to let go.

Pursing her lips, Lisa pressed two fingers to Jo's throat, feeling a thready pulse beneath. She glanced up into Dean's face, noting that the usually unflappable man was barely holding his emotions in check.

"Her pulse is weak," Lisa murmured, watching as Jo's head lolled back in Dean's arms. Dean shook her gently, propelling her back into consciousness with the jolt of pain that the action sent through her body.

"Don't you dare, Jo. Not again. Stay awake, stay with me," he demanded, swallowing against a tide of nausea as her eyes flickered open.

Jo cast an uncertain glance in Lisa's direction and the two women merely peered silently at each other for a moment before Jo met Dean's intense gaze.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her bottom lip trembling fearfully at the sudden taste of blood in her mouth. She coughed and the action stained her teeth with an alarming crimson hue.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart," Dean replied incredulously, drawing her closer against his chest. His hand shook as he combed his fingers through her hair and he swept his thumb repeatedly over her cheek, making quiet, soothing sounds he hoped would provide some degree of comfort.

"Almost there," Sam called back to them, glancing in the rear view mirror before returning his attention to the road ahead.

"You're gonna be fine," Dean promised, although his tone of voice made his words seem somehow more like a plea than a reassurance.

Lisa hugged the edges of her cardigan across her chest and kept her eyes trained discretely on Dean's face. It was difficult to discern his soft whispers to the woman in his arms or to read his expression in the darkness, but the light from the next intersection allowed Lisa one tiny moment of focus; even to the casual observer, Dean Winchester's world was crashing down around him in flames.

Lisa swallowed, gulping down the bile that sudden and unwelcome realisation brought to her throat. Even when she had all but thrown Dean out of her house, he had never faced the prospect of losing her and Ben with such terror as he did now with this woman. The endearments had never been so free flowing from his tongue with Lisa, and his caress had never seemed quite so tender. Words spilled desperately from his lips, anything that sprang to mind no matter how mundane or inappropriate, and Lisa saw then just how close Dean actually was to losing his sanity.

Jo cried out as the car hit a bump in the road, and Sam directed an apologetic glance to the backseat.

"Sorry, Jo," he called out, his own voice trembling. "Not far now. Just hang on."

"Good to see you, Sam," Jo croaked, a strange smile spreading sluggishly across her lips. Sam laughed and a look that was halfway between elation and sorrow descended on his face.

"You too, Jo," he stated, "you've no idea."

Lisa noted the affection contained in Sam's tone, realising that whoever this woman was, she clearly had touched both of the Winchester's lives. That was just great; how could Lisa ever have competed with someone that was so obviously accepting and perhaps even indulgent of the ridiculous relationship the brothers shared?

Jo nodded, her smile fading somewhat as she leant her head back against Dean's shoulder, whilst a familiar sense of dizziness overcame her. Despite the comfort and reassurance Dean was all but chanting, in her heart of hearts, Jo Harvelle knew she was dying.

This was her second chance and before she had even begun to live it, it had been cruelly snatched away from her. Jo was certain there would not be a third. She and Dean would never be allowed to explore the bond between them, and Jo was once again hit with an infinite sense of loss at what could have been.

Dean seemed able to ascertain her thoughts and hope visibly drained from his face as he held onto her.

"You're a pain in the ass Harvelle," he said with a forced smile. Dean sucked in a slow breath to try and hold back a threatened onslaught of tears, "But you have no idea how much I missed you."  
>She murmured unintelligibly, traces of a returned smile ghosting her lips as she tried to assure him that she knew.<p>

Lisa could do nothing but watch in silence as Jo continued to slip away and, in turn, Dean Winchester drifted just that little bit farther from her own reach.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors' Note – We own nothing but at least ten plausible ways to #Bring Back Jo. **_

_**Another collab between Silverspoon and WelshWitch1011. **_

_**WARNING – Contains spoilers and dialogue from episodes 6:21 and 6:22, 'Let It Bleed' and 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'.**_

'_**Stem The Flow'**_

_**Part Two**_

**x-x-x**

Surrounded by a plethora of machines and medical equipment, Jo lay swathed in a hospital gown, IV lines and electrodes scattered over her body as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

Dean maintained a vigil over the monitors beside the bed, following the lines on the screen as they tracked and traced Jo's dwindling heartbeat. The slow and steady drip of blood through the IV port was almost hypnotic, and he found himself staring at the bright red liquid whilst it ebbed through the tangle of lines.

Sam and Bobby sat at the back of the room, neither one knowing quite what to say or do under such an impossible circumstance and both realising that Dean would find no comfort in any words they could offer. He merely sat watching helplessly, as history repeated itself.

It was now only a matter of time and so Dean sat in a faithful watch at Jo's bedside, his eyes devoid of light or life as she grew weaker. He traced his fingertips across her wrist, sometimes entangling her cool fingers with his own, and other times wrapping his hand around hers as if his will alone could somehow wake her. The doctor's prognosis was bleak; Jo had lost too much blood and the damage to her internal organs was irreparable. Despite the fluids, blood transfusions and medications coursing through her body, nothing more could be done.

Bobby stood from his seat and made his way to the door of the ICU room in order to study Jo, who lay with her hair fanned out against the pillows. Her chest rose and fell with her slow, shallow breaths.

"You need anything, son?" Bobby asked quietly, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and squeezing it gently.  
>Dean shook his head, his eyes remaining trained on the figure in the bed as he replied in a hoarse whisper, "No. Thanks, Bobby."<br>The older man nodded, exchanging a glance with Sam before he exited the room and began a pensive lap of the hallways.

"This is all my fault," Dean berated himself, jaw clenching against the barrage of emotions he felt may overcome him.  
>Sam regarded his brother with sadness, surprised to find Dean swiping tears from his cheek with the back of his hand.<br>"Dean, it's not. You... you couldn't have known Crowley would do something like this," Sam argued, looking toward Jo and shaking his head in disbelief at her very presence.

Dean remained unconvinced by his brother's words of comfort. The reality of the situation finally became too much and he blinked through a haze of tears that cascaded from his eyes.  
>"I can't do this again, Sammy," he said with a bitter toss of his head. It had taken Jo's fatal injury in Carthage for Dean to acknowledge his true feelings for her; as a consequence, the pain of her loss had been that much greater knowing that things might have been so very different- that perhaps she could have been the one. To have had her back again, even for such a short time, and to have held her in his arms with the illusion of a second chance, now only made the ache in Dean's heart that much greater.<p>

Whilst Sam wanted nothing more than to ease his brother's pain, he knew that there was little he could offer in the way of comfort. Words seemed so inadequate and, with nothing to be done to alter matters, all Sam could possibly do was to be there when Dean's walls eventually tumbled down.

"She doesn't deserve any of this," Dean whispered, rubbing at his face with the palm of his hand, "how could Cas do this to her?"

Sam had been wondering the very same himself since their arrival at the hospital. After all the brothers had been through with the angel, he could not begin to fathom how betrayal had come to Castiel with such apparent ease. And so in response to Dean's query, Sam simply shrugged.

"At least this time there'll be a body," Dean choked out, surprisingly managing to hold himself together as he uttered the unthinkable words. Sam glared at his brother, and let out a hiss of surprise.

"How can you even talk like that?" demanded Sam, utterly disgusted by Dean's lack of belief in Jo. "After everything she did for us..."

"And I let her down again..." Dean roared, both the volume and venom of his tone causing Sam to reel back in shock. A nurse who had been in the process of passing by the room suddenly poked her head around the doorway, shooting an accusatory glance at Dean before scoping the vicinity to ensure all was well. Relatively satisfied, she bestowed a final disapproving look upon Dean before scuttling on her way.

"Crowley brought her back as a distraction for me," said Dean, in the tone of a broken and burning man. Sam swallowed, the gesture bringing a lump to his own throat, and focused his eyes upon Jo's small form. Her complexion was pallid, and her lips tinged with a faint blue, just the way they had been upon their very last meeting. Sam scooted closer to Jo's bedside, settled himself in the chair opposing his brother, and then reached for the woman's free hand in order to grasp it within his own.

"Why did you never tell me?" Sam asked quietly, his eyes downcast and focused upon Jo's slim fingers that were now molded against his own. "Why couldn't you tell me how you felt about her?"

Dean flinched at the undercurrent of Sam's tone and busied himself with brushing his fingertips up and down Jo's arm.  
>"Not open for discussion right now," Dean snapped, furious enough at himself for never having voiced his feelings, without his brother pointing out yet another way he had failed Jo.<p>

Sam huffed in mild annoyance, focusing on the monitors as he caught Jo's heart rate dropping and then rising once more. Dean stared at the screen, his own breathing stilling as he watched the numbers flicker, causing a red light on the machine to blink alarmingly.

A nurse hurried into the room, casting a glance at Jo as she first checked the electrodes beneath her gown and then resettled the oxomiter probe on her finger. Once satisfied that her patient was in no immediate danger, the nurse awarded Sam and Dean a sympathetic smile and left the room as quickly as she had appeared.

"How could I tell you Sammy, when I couldn't even tell her?" Dean demanded, although his tone was not at all hostile now, merely defeated.

"Why couldn't you tell her?" Sam pressed. It was evident now to him that Dean's feeling for Jo ran deeper than either of them had ever contemplated, and so he was left wondering why his brother had ever allowed such a chance at prospective happiness to pass him by.

"I didn't tell her because... I didn't want her to get hurt," Dean confessed, laughing in despair at the irony of his words, "I figured she was safer away from me." He inhaled sharply, rubbing his hand over his face as he found himself revisiting those few final moments in Carthage, moments he knew he would soon be living all over again.

Sam remained mute, unsure as to how to respond. He knew through experience that there was nothing he could say to ease Dean's conscience, guilt or pain, and so he simply said nothing for fear of exacerbating any of them. No longer able to stand the tension in the room, Sam debated following Bobby to search out a coffee that he really did not need or want. However, before his decision was entirely made, Dean rose from his chair and laid Jo's arm down by her side.

"Stay with her Sammy," he said quietly as though Jo were merely sleeping and he was afraid to wake her, "I gotta... I just need a few minutes."

With sympathetic understanding in his eyes, Sam watched his brother leave the room, and resumed stroking the back of Jo's hand in his place.

It was only a matter of time now.

**x-x-x**

Dean closed his eyes tight shut and sagged against the wall, using the vending machine by his side to conceal his body as he dropped his head into his hands and battled to reign in his emotions. It would be so easy now to crumble, to dissolve into the tears that Dean knew were waiting for him, but he refused to allow himself to weaken until Jo was no longer in need of his strength. It was the least that Dean could do for her now after she had given him so much.

The sound of someone clearing their throat wrenched Dean from his own thoughts and with a sigh he opened his eyes, expecting to find Bobby gazing at him. He blanched when instead he saw Lisa, one arm encircled around Ben's shoulders, the two of them staring at him in earnest.

"How's your friend?" Ben asked, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip and his eyes creasing hopefully at the corners. Strain was evident upon the young boy's face but Dean could not spare even an ounce of sympathy now as all was reserved for the woman who lay dying in the cold iron bed.

"Not so great," Dean replied, watching the boy's expression darken upon receipt of the news. "You did good back there, Ben." He reached out and patted the boy's shoulder. Ben merely shot him a watery smile, traumatised by the day's events, but also missing having Dean in his everyday life. Despite his mother's apparent issues with Dean's lifestyle, to Ben he was a hero and nothing Lisa said could persuade him otherwise.

"Hey sweetie, you want to go and grab a soda?" Lisa stated rather than asked, digging in her pocket and handing Ben a few dollar bills before he had chance to reply.

Ben sighed and drifted hesitantly from his mother's side, glancing back down the hall to watch her plant her hands on her hips in preparation for what he anticipated to be an angry confrontation.

Dean watched the spark of anger ignite behind Lisa's eyes and he sighed wearily, genuinely repentant for the pain he had caused her yet finding it difficult to focus on anything but the woman fighting for her life.  
>"I hope your friend gets better, Dean, I really do," she stated as she looked up to hold his elusive gaze, "but I need to know... was that the truth? Did you come to me because you had nowhere else to go?"<p>

Her tone rose just enough to catch the attention of the RN at the nurse's station, who shook her head in disapproval and gestured toward the patients' rooms. Lisa shot the woman an apologetic smile but made no move to back away from Dean and the fight she had started.

Dean shook his head, realising that he owed Lisa the truth. After the unhappiness and danger he had brought into her life, it was the very least he could do. When Dean had arrived at Lisa's door he had genuinely sought happiness. He had coveted the normal, suburban existence that she offered for so long, and he thought he cared about her enough to seek it by her side. In hindsight, he knew his decision had been rash and that the loss of Sam and the events of Carthage mere months before made his actions seem like those of a lost, desperate man.

"I cared about you and Ben, Lisa, I still do," he replied, "and I'm sorry that I hurt you, you've gotta believe me. I never wanted that."

"Yeah, well you did it," she retorted evenly, finding all final traces of sympathy for the man before her dissipating, "I put up with a lot, Dean, things other women would have left you for. I don't know what your issues are, but your relationship with your brother is beyond codependent. It's just not healthy. What woman wants to compete for her boyfriend's attention with his brother? And all this hunting crap..."

"That crap means something, Lisa. We save people's lives. Just like Jo did for Ben today," he countered, angered by the dismissive shrug she tossed in his direction.

"He wouldn't have been in danger if it wasn't for you and Sam," she snapped back, shaking her head and laughing without amusement, "you brought all this into our lives, Dean, all of it. And now I find out that I wasn't even the one you wanted to be with."

"Lisa, I..." he faltered, "I care about you, I wanted to be with you and Ben. I just..."

"We were all that was left Dean," she said simply, her tone conveying the truth she knew to be threaded within her words, "and you _'care'_ about me? You care about me, but you're in love with her."

Dean faltered, unable to defend himself against the truth and finding now that he did not wish to. Instead, he ran one hand through his mussed hair, and glared down at Lisa. When he had arrived on her doorstep all those months ago, alone, broken and grieving, he had done so for a multitude of reasons. It was true that he had nowhere left to go; without Sam he could never have stood to face Bobby's house and the memories contained within, or to hit the road in the Impala once more without his ever present passenger and figurative partner in crime. Also, and perhaps most importantly, Dean had promised Sam, and a vow between brothers was one not lightly broken.

Sam had spoken with Dean's best interests at heart when he had insisted that he seek out Lisa and claim his slice of 'apple pie'. However, neither brother could have guessed that Dean would discover that hunting flowed through his veins like blood, and without it he felt a lack of purpose in the world that almost prevented him from functioning.

"I don't expect you to understand what happened between me and Jo..." Dean began, stepping around his words with care. However, the flare of Lisa's nostrils alerted him too late that he had already struck a nerve. Lisa closed the gap between them in an instant, stabbing her finger into Dean's chest in an accusatory manner.

"How can I understand anything when you never let me in Dean?" Lisa demanded in a hiss, "even when you were mourning your brother, you never really spoke to me about it. You never opened up, just drank until it didn't hurt anymore, and no matter how hard I tried, how much I told you, I could never get you to let me into your past."

Dean appeared to mull over her words and then he glanced fleetingly through the doorway of Jo's room, catching the back of Sam's head as he sat at her side.  
>Looking up into Lisa's expectant face, Dean found the words spewing from his lips before he had a chance to consider their impact.<br>"Because you don't belong there," he stated, never once uncertain as he delivered the truth, "you don't belong in my past, Lisa... and... and I was wrong to think you could be in my future."

He took a step forwards, ignoring the incredulous glare she shot him as she narrowed her eyes in rage, "That's it? That's all you've got to say to me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I hurt you... I'm sorry I hurt Ben, he's a great kid. But you and me, we're a wrong fit, Lisa. You don't belong in my world anymore than I do in yours. And I know you hate me right now but I did care about you, and I'll always be sorry for what I've done to you both. If you ever need anything..."

Lisa interrupted him and held her hand out to halt his speech, "We don't need anything from you. Just stay the hell out of our lives."  
>He nodded in understanding, running his hand over the back of his neck as he mentally prepared himself to return to Jo's room.<p>

"Take care of yourself, okay?" he said with a sincerity he meant. He hazarded a step past Lisa toward the ICU bay as he explained, "I just... I need to be with her right now."

"Fine," Lisa replied, her tone icy now to match her countenance as she stood before Dean, evaluating him with her gaze, "but you know that you're just setting yourself up for another tragedy. Another heartbreak to add to your long list, Dean."

Dean cast a final backward glance at Lisa, taking in the appearance of the demure and generally poised brunette now looking so riled and plain miserable as a consequence of Dean simply being. Lisa had never slotted into the hunting lifestyle the way Dean had hoped; they both knew that she had tried her best as she did in every endeavor she approached, but Lisa was simply too far the opposite of everything that summed up Dean Winchester.

Once upon a time, when he was a younger man in his early twenties, speeding past county line after county line in the passenger seat of his father's Impala, Dean's thoughts had often turned to Lisa. Upon their first meetings those many years ago, she had been wild, impulsive, and ready to sink her teeth into life. However, situations had altered as they often do with the passage of time and, when Dean had crossed paths with Lisa Braeden again, she had been transformed into a mother with a house, a steady job, and a lifestyle that Dean had finally come around to craving. Lisa had always represented an ideal to Dean; the worst case of the grass being greener on the other side that he thought he may ever have come across.

But living that ideal had proven an entirely different concept to wanting it, and he quickly found that all the things that accounted for the fabric of his life, where the things Lisa opposed. He had tried to become the man she wanted him to be, forfeiting not just hunting, but also the relationships with his oldest friends and, more importantly, his brother.

Dean could forgive Lisa's misguided and heavy handed attempts to mold him into the perfect suburban boyfriend, yet he knew he would never forgive the disdain with which she had treated Sam. In fact, Dean speculated that perhaps the reason he had slipped so easily into the role of surrogate father to Ben was that he had spent the majority of his life looking out for Sam, acting as both older brother and father figure in John's absence.

He had sought happiness with Lisa and her son, always silencing that nagging voice in his head that told him he should not be there. Of course he had paid even less attention to his heart, something he realised he had been guilty of for years.

It seemed that Dean had developed an unfortunate habit of ignoring his feelings until it were quite literally too late. With this in mind, Dean turned away from Lisa and began the arduous walk back to Jo's bedside, aware that in his wake he left a broken woman.

**x-x-x**

Finally, Bobby had managed to persuade Sam to visit the downstairs cafeteria, although Dean still refused to leave Jo's side. He was conscious of the ticking of the clock on the wall above the bed, and with every second that passed by Dean found himself anxiously awaiting the rise and fall of Jo's chest. Time marched on, inching ever closer to midnight; the witching hour, and the start of the new day that the doctor's assured them Jo would never see.

So, Dean kept his vigil, and his family had long since given up trying to coax him away from it.

"Got to admit," Dean murmured, propping his head in his free hand whilst his other gripped Jo's fingers furiously, "Crowley certainly got me good this time."

He slid his hand up and down her arm in a gesture of comfort, terrified by the cooling of her skin and the now weak and irregular pulse that met his fingertips. He found himself committing her face to memory, taking in the curve of her cheekbones and the fan of dark blonde lashes against her cheek.

Jo Harvelle had haunted his dreams since Carthage. Sometimes appearing to him in a cruel hoax of a life where her vivacious smile lulled him into believing that she was real. Other dreams of her rapidly became nightmares, and Dean was watching her slip away in his arms over and over again, never having gotten the chance to tell her that she was the one- that if he was ever to be truly happy, it would have been with her.

Dean refused to let her go this time without telling her how much she meant to him. He was not sure if she could hear him in her unconscious state, but as he bent down over her body and whispered his confession in her ear, he convinced himself that his words had reached her heart.

He ran the back of his hand across her face, noting how her lips were parted gently in slumber and on impulse he pressed a kiss against them, no longer caring that his tears were flowing.

Dean sat back in his seat, grasping her hand once again as he continued to wait, the terror building within him as he realised that their time for parting was imminent.

A soft swishing sound drew his attention to the doorway and, as Dean's gaze befell the man in the rumpled suit and trench coat, his upper lip curled back in a fierce snarl.

"What do you want?" he seethed, his eyes wide as he contemplated the gall of the angel who had betrayed him in the very worst sense.

Castiel took a step forward, his tone calm and even as he began, "Dean, listen..."

Dean interjected before another syllable could pass the angel's lips, "What can you possibly have to say? She'll be dead within hours."

"I'm sorry," Cas whispered and, just for the briefest of moments, Dean believed him. However, he could not bring himself to be moved by any shred of remorse the angel felt.

"I don't care," he growled, his head shaking slowly from side to side as his eyes remained locked upon Cas' face, which was twisted into a grimace of displeasure. Dean's watery stare drifted back to Jo, pale and yet still beautiful, as he found himself finishing without thought, "It's too little too late."

Nodding in understanding and possible acceptance, Cas hazarded a step towards the bed, before settling himself in the seat that Sam had previously occupied.

"How could you do that to her, Cas?" Dean demanded, his tone conveying his disbelief, "she was your friend."  
>Castiel stared at the woman in the bed and then cast a pensive glance back at Dean who was glaring with unbridled fury.<br>"Please Cas, please tell me you didn't have a hand in this..." Dean demanded, refusing to believe that someone he had trusted and looked upon as a friend and ally could do something so despicable.

Castiel shook his head and turned to regard Dean. "No. I did not know Crowley was going to involve Jo in his... distraction," he stood from his chair, and approached her bedside, frowning as he peered down at her. She looked oddly fragile and Cas found himself disconcerted by this.  
>"I would not have brought her back to you," he stated, his tone now tinged with regret, "not like this."<br>Dean narrowed his eyes, his mind reeling as he thought of the alternate reality he and Sam had awoken in only weeks before.

"Wait, you did that? You brought Jo and Ellen back?" his eyes darted furtively around the room as he began to piece together events, "their being alive again had nothing to do with the Titanic not sinking, you brought them back on purpose."

Castiel bowed his head in affirmation, watching Dean's expression change to one of curiosity rather than anger. "You were my friend Dean. I wanted you to be happy. Jo and Ellen meant a lot to you, and Sam."

Dean seemed skeptical of his explanation and he arched an eyebrow in suspicion, "That's it? That's why you brought them back?"

Castiel was growing tired of the conversation and he regarded Dean impatiently. "She is the _one_, is she not?" he countered, watching Dean's face fall as he cast a glance toward Jo.

"Why are you here, Cas? You come to gloat?" Dean asked, busying himself with enclosing Jo's hand within his own as he checked the monitors for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"I am not here for you," Castiel replied, holding his hand over Jo's forehead, "I am here for her."

"Meaning?" Dean demanded, his voice inflected with the slightest glimmer of hope.

Cas ignored the question and, as he stood with his palm poised over Jo, a brilliant white light seeped from his fingertips and into her skin. Dean found himself holding his breath.

"She'll wake soon," Cas promised with half a glance at Dean, who rose from his seat with a reverent expression upon his face, as he watched Jo's pulse rise to a normal level on the monitor above her head.

Dean struggled for breath for several seconds, his chest heaving just a little as he pushed down the sobs that threatened to tear from his throat should he allow them. _Jo would live._ The words permeated Dean's mind and left him winded, as joy, gratitude and blinding rage swept through him like a tornado.

"Thank you," Dean choked out, still unable to meet Cas' gaze. Instead, he watched Jo, his heart fluttering as the fingers of her left hand twitched against the sheet. _Jo would live._

"I wish this changed anything," the hunter finally managed, forcing himself now to raise his eyes to the face of the angel, who peered back at Dean stoically.

"I know. So do I," was the reply as Cas began to move towards the open doorway, his hands buried in the pockets of his coat, "I just wanted to fix what I could."

Cas had barely crossed the threshold into the corridor before Dean's voice resounded again, cold and almost commanding.

"There's one more thing you could do for me."

**x-x-x**

Bobby paced the ICU room, taking off his baseball cap and smoothing down his hair, repeating the gesture over and over as the three hunters waited for Jo to awaken.  
>"You're sure he wasn't just yanking your chain again?" Bobby demanded, glancing over furtively at Dean who was sitting beside Jo's bed, her hand nestled in his own.<p>

Sam shook his head, smiling in reassurance at Dean, "No, Cas wouldn't do that, Bobby."

Bobby shrugged, muttering under his breath about the many things they had all assumed Castiel 'wouldn't do' and just how wrong they had been proven.

"She's gonna wake up," Dean stated, leaving no room for negotiation, "so just sit your ass down."

Bobby shot Dean a mildly irritable glare before he obeyed and sat down in the chair next to Sam. The next few minutes passed in silence then Bobby began tapping his foot against the floor, folding his arms across his chest as he stared around the room.  
>He continued on, oblivious to the irritated expressions both brothers wore as the repetitive tapping drove them to distraction.<p>

"Bobby!" Dean snapped, gesturing to his foot which was still drumming an absent beat against the ground.

"Seriously, dude..." Sam agreed.

"I wasn't doing nothing," Bobby defended, beginning to become more and more agitated and their conversation rapidly descended into exasperated bickering.

Through a haze of voices, Jo began to claw her way back to consciousness, and her eyelids fluttered open. Peering uncertainly around the room, she took in the welcome sight of her friends and then turned her head to the side to see who had such a firm hold on her hand.

"Guys?" she said softly, swallowing against the dryness of her throat as she tried to catch their attention through their squabbling, "guys?"

When her second attempt to rouse them from their 'spirited discussion' failed, Jo lifted her head from the pillow and tried an altogether less delicate approach.

"HEY!"

She winced as the action made her cough, yet all three men turned instantly in her direction and a sudden hush fell.

"Jo..." three male voices, trembling with varying degrees of emotion declared in a perfect unison that caused Jo to snort with laughter. Dean, Sam and Bobby exchanged abashed glances, before they threw themselves across the room and each enveloped Jo in their arms. They talked all at once, the clamour of their voices rising in pitch and volume.

"Pretty sure people are trying to die in peace round here," Jo joked, lowering her tone and smiling as Bobby squeezed her into one final, paternal hug before pulling back to regard her.

"Not funny," Dean replied, shaking his head, his mouth refusing to close fully as he drank in the sight of Jo Harvelle sitting before them. Admittedly, she looked a little worse for wear, but the apple of her cheeks was beginning to flush with a little more colour now, and her eyes were alive with their familiar light. Dean inclined his face towards heaven and whispered a quiet word of thanks.

"Almost lost you there," Sam observed, perching on the side of the bed at Jo's side and grinning at her.

"Can't get rid of me that easily- twice," quipped Jo, ignoring the way her voice cracked and wobbled in the middle of her sentence. Dean could tell that she was beyond freaked out by the current situation and yet doing her utmost to hide it.

Jo felt Dean's eyes on her and she turned to him. He stared back at her, unblinking, and a beaming smile suddenly broke out across his face as he leant forwards and pressed a kiss to her forehead, repeating the gesture on her cheek before he pulled her back into an embrace.

Sam cleared his throat and dug Bobby in the ribs. "You know, I could really use a soda," he declared, frowning inwardly at his lame excuse- the only one his brain had been able to formulate operating under exhaustion.

Bobby looked at him quizzically, before finally his mouth formed an 'o' and he nodded in understanding, "I guess you two kids want a little alone time."

"Thanks Bobby," Dean replied, his tone and expression equally sarcastic. He fluttered his fingertips in a wave as Sam left the room, Bobby lumbering after him wearing a knowing grin.

"So... what happened?" Jo inquired, resting against her pillows and touching her hand to her stomach, where she vaguely recalled the sensation of a blade slipping into her flesh. She shuddered at the hazy memory, which was sharp enough to ensure she would be having nightmares for months to come.

"What do you remember?" asked Dean, hesitating as he wondered whether it would be prudent to jog Jo's memory given all she had been through in the short space of time since her return.

Jo gulped and affixed Dean with a steady gaze, "I remember Crowley bringing me back, but I don't remember anything about where I was before that."

Dean sighed with relief, watching as she entangled her fingers with his and eased herself into a sitting position. He wondered if he would ever know whether there had been any truth behind Crowley's taunts at where he had found the soul of the young hunter, and part of him hoped Jo would never remember.

"How did I..." she frowned, suddenly realising that she felt strangely well considering her injuries. Aside from perhaps feeling tired, she appeared to be suffering no ill effects, and the pain she had anticipated upon repositioning herself had failed to materialise.

"Cas," Dean replied quietly. "You were in a pretty bad way when we brought you in."

"Guess I owe him a 'thank you', huh?" she speculated, noting the shadow of discomfort that flashed across Dean's face.

"It's a long story," he shook his head and smiled at her in reassurance, "and, it can wait. You're okay... that's all that matters right now."

Jo decided not to push for an explanation and she cleared her throat as she cast a pensive stare at the bed sheets, purposefully avoiding his gaze.  
>"Is your friend and her son okay?" Though her memories of the event were cloudy, she could not deny her curiosity nor the pang of jealousy it brought to her heart.<p>

"They're... they'll be just fine," Dean answered, wincing a little as he squeezed Jo's hand.

She nodded and discomfort hung over the room like a grey cloud. The two hunters sat in silence and each mulled over the possibilities of how they could break it. Dean was finally the first to talk.

"Lisa's a good lady... she took me in when I had nowhere else to go, and she put up with some of the worst crap because of it," Dean stated, slowly and carefully as though he were picking his way across a minefield, "I cared about her."

Jo simply listened, her expression giving nothing away, but her eyes rapidly beginning to lose their spark as she anticipated the gentle let down that she assumed Dean was about to give her. She had been pretty out of things back at the warehouse after being injured but Jo was almost certain that she could recall a few kisses and whispered words that had dared her to hope that she could mean more to Dean than he had ever acknowledged before.

"It's okay, I understand," Jo soothed, holding up one hand in order to prevent a further onslaught of apologies and explanations that she did not need, nor could stand.

A curious laughter overcame him as he stared at her and then shook his head with a sad smile. "No, you don't..." he said simply, swallowing back his nerves and the raw emotion he felt building behind his words. The rest of his sentence went unspoken and he leant slowly toward her, his hand cupping her cheek as he brushed his lips firmly against hers in a kiss he hoped would allow her to understand his feelings.

Jo refrained from melting into his kisses, not quite comprehending who the woman had been and how she figured in Dean's life. Jo had no desire to come between the couple, especially not when Dean seemed to have developed such a noticeable bond with her son.  
>"Dean, I..." she whispered, her breath catching in her throat as he held his forehead against hers and caressed her cheek almost desperately.<p>

He detected the hesitancy in her tone and lifted his eyes to meet hers, not able to prevent his incredulous smile as he realised she was there; alive and well, and in his arms. The woman he had often thought about, yet never dared hope he would ever see again on this earth.  
>"No," his tone was tender yet resolved, "you don't understand. I... I care about Lisa and Ben, but, it would have been you, Jo."<p>

Dean entangled his fingers in Jo's hair, rested his hand on the back of her head, and coaxed her body towards his own. Their lips collided suddenly as Jo closed the last few inches between them, snaking her arms around Dean's neck and kissing him hungrily.

"I guess that means you do understand," quipped Dean as he exhaled before pouncing on Jo's lips again with his own. They melted into the kiss; one that was so full of promise, unlike the very first they had shared in a hardware store in Carthage. Reluctantly, the couple broke apart after a few seconds had elapsed, and surveyed each other with similarly nervous smiles.

A sudden, quiet knocking drew both of their gazes, and Dean swallowed hard as he saw Lisa and Ben framed in the doorway. Lisa's arm secured Ben to her side and his head rested against her shoulder.

"Hi, I'm sorry to interrupt," Lisa began, taking a tentative step into the room and drawing Ben along with her. Jo stiffened a little in the bed, her eyes wide as she watched Lisa, unsure of her intent. In reassurance, Dean fastened his hand around Jo's before bringing it to his lips and brushing a kiss against her knuckles.

"I just... we just... we had to stop by and thank you," said Lisa in a rush, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she approached Jo's bedside, "you saved my son's life..."

"Oh, I..." Jo began, glancing at Dean and frowning in evident bewilderment. Neither Lisa nor her son seemed to recall Jo or the actual events of the day. Perhaps more importantly, neither appeared to remember Dean.

"We won't interrupt," Lisa smiled and gestured toward their joined hands, "but Ben and I... we just wanted to say thank you. If you hadn't been there, the car would have hit him and..." She trailed off, unable to finish her sentence as the thought alone was too horrific.

"I'm just glad you're both okay," Jo said with a smile, as she wondered how their apparently revised memories could have been crafted and who lay behind it. Dean's expression pleaded with her to play along however, and so she did.

"I don't even know your name," Lisa laughed, running her hands through her hair in a somewhat coy gesture.

"Jo," the blonde hunter replied, shaking her head as she saw Lisa's gaze fall expectantly to Dean, "oh, uh... this is Dean."

Lisa smiled in greeting, her arm tightening around Ben as she frowned uncertainly, "Have we met before?"

Dean shrugged, widening his eyes in an expression of innocence, "No ma'am, I don't think so."

"Oh," Lisa nodded thoughtfully, her smile returning as she turned her gaze back to Jo, "anyway, we just wanted to say 'thank you' and see how you were doing. I guess we'll leave you guys to it. Take care, Jo."

"Yeah, you too, Lisa..." she whispered, unsure as to whether her guilt at the apparent deception was justified or not.

Whilst she felt unease at the idea of stealing someone's memories, she also viewed Lisa as one of the lucky ones. The horrors she and Ben had experienced would never result in fears or nightmares, and they had been awarded a second chance to live free from the knowledge of what lay in wait in the dark.

"Take care of each other," Dean said quietly, a sad smile gracing his lips as Lisa merely nodded and led Ben from the room. Jo remained quiet, attempting to analyse Dean's expression as he watched them go.

"So, what happens now?" she bit down on her bottom lip and took a deep breath, smiling wryly as she noted the telemetry monitor beside her pick up her suddenly elevated heart rate.

"What do you want to happen?" Dean asked gently, sitting back in his chair, their entwined hands resting on the edge of the bed. Jo shrugged, deliberately avoiding Dean's gaze as she contemplated her options. It seemed that there were few since the roadhouse was long gone, and she could not yet even begin to contemplate the fact that she would be forced to live without her mother. Ellen had been the one permanent, comforting presence throughout Jo's life and even death, and the thought that the bond they had once shared was now severed by separation made Jo's heart ache. She fought the tears that threatened to overwhelm her, and was relieved to find herself victorious in that fight. At least for the time being.

"I don't really have a lot of options," Jo whispered, her voice small and containing a helpless note that she despised. Dean moved towards her and simply enveloped her in strong arms. He pressed his lips into her hair, and mumbled his response, "I'm not going anywhere Jo."

Her voice was muffled against his chest and she was surprised at the ferocity with which he held her to him, "Okay."

Dean cast a cautious glance out toward the hallway, checking for the presence of any of the nursing staff, before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed and pulled her against his chest.  
>"You and I, we should have been something a long time ago," he stated confidently, the emotion etched on his face as he recounted the pain and regret of losing her that was still so raw in his mind.<br>"I was so stupid, Jo," he berated himself for having dismissed his feelings for so long, "I thought I was protecting you."

"From what?" she frowned, and Dean pressed a lingering kiss to her temple.

"From me," Dean said hoarsely, "from the life I lead. I thought keeping you away from me was keeping you safe."

Jo slid her hand up around his neck and swept her fingertips across the warm skin underneath his collar. "Hunting's my life too, Dean," she argued, "whether we like it or not, it's who we are. Maybe it always will be."

"You think we can make this work?" Dean queried, peering into Jo's eyes and realising for the first time just how easy it would be to get lost in them.

"You don't?" she murmured, half questioning and half resigned. Dean's eyes widened and he shook his head.

"I didn't mean it like that..." he stammered, a blush rising upon his cheeks, "I just... I'm... I can't lose you again."

Dean dropped his gaze immediately to the floor, a heavy sigh escaping him. Jo swept her hand across his cheekbone, forcing Dean to tilt his face towards her, and met his eyes with a startling intensity present within her own.

"We'll make it work," she stated, daring herself to believe that something in their troubled and tormented lives might be good. Jo remembered their goodbye in Carthage. She could recall the helpless expression in Dean's eyes and the desperation with which he had clung to her. In that moment, the realisation that Dean perhaps returned her feelings had been the breaking point for Jo, as she lay bleeding on the ground, ever conscious of death beckoning her, Jo had mourned all that might have been.

"Not everybody gets a second chance, Dean," Jo murmured, her gaze still affixed on his features, "and I don't want to waste it."

Dean nodded in agreement, holding Jo under such scrutiny that a blush rose to her cheeks. "You're so beautiful," he smiled and his whole face appeared illuminated with happiness.

Jo's planned self-deprecating remark never made it past her lips, as Dean bent his head and kissed her softly. Her hand gripped the collar of his shirt as the kiss intensified, and Dean smirked against her mouth, as the heart monitor beside the bed bleeped in warning.

Eventually breaking apart, Jo opened her eyes to find a thoroughly smug grin plastered across Dean's face.  
>"Shut up." She rolled her eyes, about to lean back against her pillows when he pulled her abruptly closer once again.<p>

"You shut up," he retorted playfully, grinning as this time she initiated a kiss.

A pointed cough coming from the direction of the doorway stole their attention and Dean groaned as he prepared to open his eyes, fully anticipating being removed from the ICU bay by the charge nurse. Making yourself comfortable on a patient's bed and then making _out_ with said patient was most probably against the rules.

Relief filled Dean as Bobby took a step into the room, flanked by a blushing Sam whose eyes were affixed on the floor.

"I hate to break this up," Bobby drawled, gaze flicking from Dean to an embarrassed Jo, "but we gotta head out, Dean. We still have the small problem of a renegade angel on our hands."

At Jo's questioning glance Dean tossed his head, planting a quick kiss to her cheek before sauntering over to join his brother.

"Nothing for you to worry about," he insisted, shrugging on his jacket and feeling around for his wallet. He cast a final, and evidently emotional glance at Jo, before he promised, "I'll see you later."

Burying the knowledge that his vow was one that he may not be able to keep, given the nature of their impending showdown, Dean strode from the room filled with renewed purpose.


	3. Chapter 3

'_**Stem The Flow'**_

_**Epilogue**_

_**x-x-x**_

Within mere weeks, so much had changed; some for better and some for what seemed to be irreparably worse. The confrontation with Castiel had been less about Sam and Dean making headway with the angel, and more about them receiving a rather humbling lesson in where they now fit in the grand scheme of things.

Later that morning, with despair settled painfully in his gut, Dean had returned to the hospital and to Jo; the first of many instances he hoped in which he would keep that vow. Jo had provided comfort through his sorrow, and soothed his fears regarding a future in which Castiel would be against them. Wrapped in Jo's arms, for the first time in his life, Dean had sought true solace and not even for a moment had Jo given him cause to feel weak for it.

Following her discharge from hospital, Bobby had insisted that Jo join him at his house, declaring that he was tired of rattling around the many empty rooms alone and could use a figurative lodger. With not a penny to her name or even the faintest inkling of how to begin rebuilding her life, Jo had accepted the offer, glad that Bobby had dismissed her promises of paying rent with a customary growl. Instead, Jo settled for cooking his meals, and cleaning his house from top to bottom and back up again for good measure. During her first week there she had hired a dumpster, disposed of half of the trash he had squirreled away, and left every room almost gleaming. At first, Bobby had groused like the crotchety old man that Dean did not doubt he was, but soon his protestations died down and he began to quietly relish both Jo's cooking, and the clean, crisp sheets that she fitted to his bed every Sunday evening. However, Jo had warned him not to get too comfortable with the domestic arrangement, and secretly confided in Dean that Bobby was being 'housebroken'.

Of course, Jo had not been the only guest Bobby had to contend with, and for the first time in a long time, the Winchester brothers found themselves staying in one place for more than a few days. Whilst Sam appreciated having a more definite base, he knew their decision to stay had more to do with the sudden reappearance of a certain blonde hunter rather than anything else.

Almost a month later, Bobby and his 'waifs and strays' made up a happy if not dysfunctional household, who enjoyed the stability of their impromptu living arrangements. Despite the uncertainty of the future, each of the hunters found it difficult to recall a time when they had been happier.

Dean in particular appreciated the changes that having Jo back had brought to his life. He was almost disbelieving now over the events of the previous year, and often reflected upon them with the undeniable benefit of hindsight. Dean had found happiness and not simply an elaborate pantomime of what he believed he should regard as such.

It was following a hunt with a particularly vicious poltergeist, as Jo worked at patching up his wounds in Bobby's lounge, (all the while griping about the blood that Dean had seeped into the carpet), that Dean first realised as much.

"Dean, quit moving," Jo grumbled, wielding an iodine soaked gauze pad in her hand. She advanced upon him again and Dean hissed through gritted teeth as she swept the pad across the cut above his eyebrow.  
>"You're a cruel woman," he accused, watching as she shuffled her chair closer to his and liberally doused another piece of gauze with the solution.<p>

"Okay," Jo answered with a shrug and seemingly nonchalant expression spread across her face, "I'll just go ahead and let these wounds get infected. You're up to date on your tetanus shots right?"

Dean let out a grumble that was only half serious before leaning closer to Jo and allowing her access to his lower right arm, which was marred with an impressive patch of gravel rash.

"Suck it up, baby," said Jo, squinting as she daubed at Dean's grazes whilst also attempting to extract stray fragments of gravel that littered his wounds. Dean cursed under his breath, and instead focused his attention upon Jo's face, noting how her tongue poked ever so slightly out of the corner of her mouth as she worked.

Feeling Dean's eyes affixed upon her, Jo glanced up and arched an eyebrow in questioning. "What?"  
>Dean smiled, releasing a contented sigh, and then leant toward her, gradually closing the distance between them. Jo slid closer, dropping the gauze pad onto the kitchen table as their lips met. She giggled against his mouth as Dean reached out and hefted her unceremoniously into his lap.<p>

Their lips crashed together again and again, until finally the faint burning in their lungs forced them apart. Dean swept his hands over her back, their foreheads pressed together in an intimate pose. Sweeping her palm across his jaw, Jo lifted her head and pressed a kiss above the cut on his brow before then repeating the gesture on his purple mottled cheek.

"You took quite a beating there, Winchester," Jo observed, cocking her head like an artist surveying a canvas as she took in Dean's many cuts and bruises. He frowned, and realised as pain ricocheted through every nerve in his body, that Jo was indeed correct.

The poltergeist had not only seized Dean but succeeded in slamming him repeatedly against a stone wall and also dragging him twenty feet across a gravel parking lot. Whilst Dean supposed that was one of the usual perils in attempting to dislodge a poltergeist that was haunting a carwash of all places, Jo recognised that the reason for his current condition was the many risks he had taken that evening on her behalf. Risks that if truth be told were entirely unnecessary.

"You didn't need to come in there after me, Dean. Bobby and I had it under control," she scolded, although she made no attempt to move from his lap as she felt his hands settle on her hips.  
>"I know," Dean replied with a shrug, shooting her a slightly remorseful but thoroughly charming grin, which she deflected with an arched eyebrow.<br>"I'm serious Dean, if this is gonna work out... me hunting with you guys, you can't keep taking stupid risks like you did tonight. I can look after myself," she implored, trying not to be swayed by the adoring expression he bestowed upon her.

"I know," he repeated, sliding his hand across her cheek and rubbing his thumb in slow circles behind her ear.

"I just..." he faltered, averting his gaze from her face as he struggled to voice his fears, "I just don't want anything to happen to you, Jo."  
>"Yeah? Well right back at you, Dean-o," she said with a grin despite her annoyance, and allowed Dean to press a fleeting kiss to her lips in an act of repentance.<p>

The couple turned their gaze toward the refrigerator where Sam was attempting to retrieve two bottles of beer for himself and Bobby without being noticed. The two men were happily caught up in a college football game that had also served as a distraction from Dean's whining and loud opposition to Jo's first aid skills.  
>"Not so fast, Sam," Jo called out, as he attempted to sneak past, "that cut on your hand needs cleaning up."<p>

"Uh, it's fine, really," Sam stammered, flashing Jo what he hoped was a convincing smile, although his jaw twitched in fear at the prospect of Jo's heavy handed nursing.

"Sit your ass down boy," Bobby yelled from the lounge, snickering as Sam sighed and dropped down into the chair opposite Jo and his brother, wearing a sulk that instantly transported Dean back to their childhood.

"Aw c'mon Sam, if you're real good, maybe we can find you a lollipop," Dean snickered, ignoring the irate glare that Sam directed at him. As Jo turned to unwrap a clean piece of gauze, Sam raised his middle finger pointedly in Dean's direction.

"Hey man, at least I didn't get my ass handed to me by Casper," Sam snarked in response, watching through hesitantly narrowed eyes as Jo began to soak the gauze in more of the iodine solution. "Just warm water would be fine, really."

"Don't be such a baby," Jo sighed in exasperation, biting back a smirk as Sam winced almost as soon as the gauze made contact with his skin.  
>She turned her head as she caught Dean's taunting sniggers and shot him a withering glare, "And you're just as bad."<br>Dean watched carefully as she cleaned and dressed the angry looking wound. Placing the last piece of surgical tape around the dressing pad, Jo sat back in Dean's arms and gestured that Sam could now make his escape.  
>"Try not to get it wet," she directed, frowning as she tossed the first aid supplies back into their bag and he rose thankfully from the chair, glad to be out of her well meaning but painful clutches.<br>"Thanks Jo." He smiled gratefully down at her, and she beamed back in response.  
>"You're welcome," she answered in a sing-song voice, placing her hand over Dean's as he settled both of his over her waist and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.<p>

Dean nuzzled against Jo's neck, enjoying the warmth her body had to offer, and the feel of her silky skin against his. He closed his eyes and rested his head wearily against her shoulder, the hunt beginning to finally take a toll on his body.

"Bed?" Jo queried, stroking the tips of her fingers along the bridge of Dean's nose. Wordlessly, he nodded, and Jo climbed to her feet, beginning to haul Dean up behind her in preparation to lead him upstairs to their shared bedroom.

At moments such as this, Dean never failed to be amazed by the way in which things had turned out for him and Jo. After Carthage, she had been reduced to nothing more than a painful memory in his mind; her blood a crimson stain upon his hands that he had been certain would haunt him until his dying day. Dean would have given anything to take back that day and, although he had never admitted as much, his heart had never felt quite whole in Jo's absence.

Dean had thought of Jo often during his time with Lisa. At times, when reality had become too much to endure and he had been lulled into the comfort of slumber by half a bottle of Jack Daniels, he had dreamed of Jo; and the life they perhaps could have had. He knew that she would be not only supportive of the hunting lifestyle, but also in the thick of it; capable, efficient and more than a match for even the deadliest hellspawn. He found that life with Jo had far exceeded all of these expectations.

Padding along the hall from the bathroom, Dean stifled a yawn and rubbed his hand over his face, cursing as the action made his cheekbone throb. He paused in the doorway of the bedroom and found both his weariness and irritability ebbing away as his attention befell the woman already lying between the sheets. The sight of Jo - hair spread across the pillows and a sleepy yet serene smile on her face- quickly made him forget his woes, and yet again Dean found himself thankful that he awoke beside her each morning. It had been a curious sensation at first, and the very first time they had shared a bed, he had pinched himself when the breaking dawn had disturbed his slumber. Jo fit into his arms like she was always meant to have been there, and Dean knew he had never come close to feeling the sense of peace he did when she was in his embrace.

"What have I told you about staring, Winchester?" her voice suddenly broke his reverie and Dean closed the bedroom door behind him with a careless kick. His smile grew as Jo threw the covers back on his side of the bed and leant up on her elbow to regard him.  
>As the door slammed, the TV volume downstairs suddenly shot up in response.<br>"Think they're trying to tell us something?" Dean said with a smirk, quickly discarding his jeans and t-shirt and sitting on the edge of the bed as he took off his watch then tossed it onto the nightstand.

A blush flooded Jo's cheeks and she merely smiled in embarrassment as she waited for him to get under the covers before moving into his open arms. As she laid her cheek against Dean's bare chest, Jo allowed her eyelids to close, a sigh escaping her as contentment washed over her.

The weight of Jo against his own body was comforting, and familiar, and soon he felt himself drifting away. Dean enjoyed the moment; something he had learned to do since Jo had returned.

Dean Winchester had finally realised that both the past and the future were unimportant, when the present had given him all he would ever need.

**The End**


End file.
